


What's a Soulmate?

by EthelPhantom



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Feelings, First Kisses, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Hey so you know how it gets all horrible in the middle of everything?, It gets better I swear, Lila Rossi Bashing, Lila Rossi's Lies Are Exposed, MariBat, Slice of Life, Soulmates, There's a lot going on in here because it's full of, Tim Drake is a Good Brother, just keep reading, kind of anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22337878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthelPhantom/pseuds/EthelPhantom
Summary: Because what’s a soulmate, if not the one person you love more than anything, the one person your life would crash without, the one person that gives you strength in the darkest of times even when they aren’t there, if not the one you choose to love until you run out of air to breathe and until your heart ceases to beat?What’s a soulmate, if not the one who will keep coming back to you over and over again, no matter what happens, until the end of time and will find you even beyond death?
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 62
Kudos: 396
Collections: Damian Wayne / Marinette Dupain-Cheng





	What's a Soulmate?

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeyyy so I'm here again even though I'm totally supposed to be studying for my upcoming exam week (I've got seven exams coming once Thursday arrives on every single day except for the weekend. Oh well. 
> 
> This is based on the What's a Soulmate? thing that went around a lot more before, and I've been wanting to write something based on it for years now. So. You're getting a Daminette fic based on it.
> 
> If you're still HOPEFULLY reading this, here's a little thing. This fic WILL get very angsty (like, heavy angst and grief and death and stuff) BUT it will also get way better later. There's a happy ending, their story will get a happy ending, and this will NOT end like Of Flowers and Strawberries, I swear. So, once you get there, just _keep reading _. You'll get your happy ending.__
> 
> _  
> _So, have fun reading!_  
>  _

**_“What's a soulmate?”_ **

A girl with black hair leans against a boy around her age, his hair just as black as hers. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and kisses her forehead like the rest of the world didn’t matter. Their intertwined fingers bring them comfort as they watch the sunset on the horizon, painting the world in warm, calming tones of red, orange and yellow. 

It doesn’t matter that they know their time is limited. They are together now, and that is all that mattered in the world. 

After all, the memories they had together were everything.

**_“It's a… Well, it's like a best friend, but more.”_ **

“I hope you two have a good explanation for this.”

The girl looks at the boy, both considering their next words carefully. They absolutely cannot let his older brother know how the kitchen and garden caught on fire at the same time as though on cue even though they weren’t even in the house, because everyone else is too scared to do such a thing. Especially with the butler still in the house, prepared to scold them and take away their rights to spend time together for a while. 

Maybe they would deserve it and all, but it doesn’t matter. The children do not want to spend any less time together regardless of their actions. 

“We have three, actually,” the girl says and tilts her head with feigned innocence. All of them know she’s responsible for whatever she’s being accused of this time, just like the boy is, but they don’t really care. If there’s anyone that could pull off looking innocent while covered in blood and then get away with murder, it would be her. No doubt. 

“Pick your favourite,” the boy tells his older brother, only to make him exasperated and sigh as he buries his head in his hands. It seems they’re going to get away with it again. Like always. They never have the energy to deal with the both of them at once. Perhaps going over this with one of them at a time wouldn't be too much to him, but as it is, he tried to save time and scold both of them at once.

“Fine, you can go,” his brother finally tells them and leaves, muttering something about children being impossible and him not understanding how they keep succeeding. 

The boy grabs the girl’s hand and squeezes it. “I told you, Malaki, didn’t I? We can do anything together, even survive my older brother’s intervention.”

“So you did, mon cœur. So you did.”

— 

“What’s the plan for our next grand scheme?”

“I have an idea!”

“That’s wonderful. What is it?”

“Well, it involves fire—”

“ _ Absolutely fucking not _ .”

After all, they ended up getting along like a house on fire.

**_“It's the one person in the world who knows you better than anyone else.”_ **

If there was one place in the world where you’d least expect to find either of them, it would probably be under the table in a gala. Yet, times and times again, that was exactly where one of them always found the other. Usually, crying or at the very least uncomfortable with the situation around them. 

The year they announced they were engaged to one another to the world was the first (and perhaps last) time this didn’t happen even though they weren’t comfortable in the least with the people around them. They weren’t even allowed to be with each other as people crowded each of them  _ separately _ , asking how and when and why everything happened. After all, they had kept their relationship secret until now. 

From the corner of his eye, Damian noticed the clear discomfort on his habibti’s face.  _ No one _ was allowed to do that to her. None of them even noticed how horrible they were making her feel — she was on the brink of tears but kept smiling through it. They didn’t give her any personal space, not even space to breathe. His habibti was strong, but this wasn't a situation when she should need to be.

Damian made his way through the crowds to Marinette, not caring for a second if it meant having to push people out of his way with force, if it meant someone might get hurt because of him and his actions. All that mattered (and the  _ only one _ that mattered) was his habibti and that she was not comfortable. 

As he saw someone with a glass full of wine, he got a great idea. He made sure he walked into them, or that they walked into him, and that their drink would spill on him. He detested the feeling of being in wet clothing and smelling like alcohol more than he could even begin to explain, but what wouldn’t he do for his beloved.

The person began apologising over and over to Damian, him being his father’s heir and all, but he just glared at them and walked off to his fiancée. 

“Malaki, I am afraid this imbecile spilled their drink on me, and you know how much I hate smelling like alcohol. Could you perhaps help me clean up and change into dry clothing?” he asked, knowing he sounded exactly like the rich, arrogant, self-centered, entitled brat he was raised to be and everyone thought he truly was. It was fine, as long as it was for  _ her _ and she knew what he was doing.

“ _ Look at him, forcing her to leave such a wonderful event for him. To help him when he could very well do so by himself. So selfish.” _

_ “Shut it! If he hears you, you might get kicked out! He’s the son of Bruce Wayne!” _

_ “Well, if he wanted his only biological son not to be bad-mouthed, he ought to not take him to this kind of places.” _

Damian didn’t pay any attention to them and just held her hand, as though ready to drag her away with him. Both of them knew that was not what it was for, though. It was reassurement that he was there for her, that he was going to save her if she so wished. 

The squeeze of his hand confirmed Marinette did want it. 

“Of course I will. Let’s go. I’ll have Tim inform your father about this,” she said, trying not to look so relieved to get away, but the look in her eyes betrayed it to him easily. 

Damian kissed her hand and led her away through the masses, ignoring any and all unpleasant comments directed at him. He knew she was uncomfortable, and for her, he would do anything, he could take anything, he could endure anything. 

After all, Marinette was his everything. 

**_“It's someone who makes you a better person.”_ **

A long time ago, Damian thought he could get anything and everything at the snap of his fingers because he was the grandson of  _ the _ Ra’s al Ghul, and then he thought he could have everyone at his every beck and call because he was the blood son and the legal heir of  _ the _ Bruce Wayne. Of  _ the _ Batman. They would start dancing to his music the second he told them so, that much was sure.

And he treated people like one would expect him to precisely because of that mindset no one ever helped him to lose. 

He could get anything he wanted, and he was sure that even the most expensive things in the world where obtainable because he had the money. Or, his father had, but it wasn’t like he wouldn’t have gotten anything he wanted anyway.

Dying certainly didn’t ease things. After all, his father and mother had gone to great lengths only to resurrect him. That must have meant he was worth more than others. He was worth more than his brothers. Of course he was, he was his father’s true son. If they had died, the rest would have stayed dead; no one would have desperately tried to find a way to get them back.

People around him didn’t matter, no matter whether they were family or foe. If he didn’t need them, he could simply discard them and show them he didn’t care at all. Because he didn’t. Even if he needed them, he rarely spoke to them with much respect — the only ones that he thought deserved his respect were his father, Alfred, his mother and his grandfather.  _ No one else mattered. _

And then…

Then there was a girl. 

No, there was  _ the  _ girl. 

_ The  _ girl who  _ saw him _ .

Someone who took one look at him and decided that no, she was not going to do whatever he wanted her to no matter who he was because  _ she was her own person _ and he did not own her. She did not belong to him, she did not owe him anything. She looked at him,  _ truly looked at him _ , and saw how lonely his behaviour and actions made him. 

_ “Marinette. My name is Marinette.” _

Yes, Marinette was the first to actually see him and see through him. He kept trying to push her away, but she was determined to see things through as long as she didn’t make him uncomfortable — and she knew exactly when to back off even when he wasn’t able to express his discomfort.  _ Every. Single. Time. _

Slowly, as time passed by, they became friends. He started to see the value of his family, understand their lives were worth something. Marinette smiled when talked about his brothers with a hint of respect for the first time near her. 

Then best friends. He knew he valued his family a lot, they were worth so much it didn’t take him even half of a second to go to their defense, even if he still hardly showed any of the care he held for his family  _ to them _ . Marinette beamed when he admitted he loved them for the first time. She threw herself at him and hugged him tight when he made an offhand comment about other people he didn’t even know having some kind of a basic worth because they were human. 

It took a long time, but as she snuggled closer to him and he kissed her forehead while they watched the fire dance in the hearth, he knew that there was something he could never obtain with money or fame. There was one thing more precious than any other, one thing that he could only get once he admitted he was only rich in the literal sense of the word. 

Marinette had made him understand that he would only be rich once he had something he couldn’t buy with money — something that had a name, a face and feelings. Something that could walk away if he fucked up. Something that  _ loved him  _ and that he loved back with all his heart. 

Or perhaps,  _ someone _ rather than something. 

Damian learnt that other people were valuable when he finally let Marinette show and teach him that the world was also a good place that held so many opportunities to learn from if he just knew to look for them. 

And truly, Damian learnt that other people mattered, regardless of whether they were family or foe, because they were human. He wouldn’t need to like all of them and he could hold some people more dear to him than others, but no one was worth  _ nothing _ . 

But he knew that Marinette would still be the most precious and valuable thing he could ever have, and god forbid if he didn’t do his damnedest to make sure she knew that and that he wouldn’t lose her. 

After all, Marinette was worth everything.

**_“Actually, they don't make you a better person,”_ **

“I’m glad you came into Damian’s life, Teacup,” Dick told Marinette one day while they were watching Damian and Jason spar. Tim was working as a referee, Marinette and Dick were there simply to enjoy themselves and make sure Damian and Jason didn’t kill each other…  _ or Tim _ . All of the three were a little too important to them for them to lose. 

“What do you mean?” she asked in turn though she didn’t take her eyes off her boy. She was cheering for him, albeit quietly, because she knew there was a chance she could be a distraction and that meant Jason’s win. 

“Your love for him is so…” Dick seemed to try and search for a fitting word as he tilted his head, “ _ unconditional _ . No matter what he does, you still love him and accept him, so long as he understands how his actions may affect others and then does accordingly. You don’t let him push you away, but you also don’t let him walk over you or hurt you if you can help it. You’re good to him.”

“But you do that as well, don’t you?”

“No. I mean, yeah, I do, but it’s more out of obligation as his family. Even I might not be able to tolerate him as much as you have if I were not his older brother. But you, you came into his life and stayed. You’ve changed him and made him a better person.”

Marinette stayed quiet for a while after that, watching the boys solemnly. She rested her head in her hands and sighed before she closed her eyes. “No,” she said and shook her head. “I have not made him a better person.”

“But you—”

“Dick, no. He’s changed, yes, and I know he’s changed the most after I came into his life, but perhaps it’s just that he needed a different perspective to things. He kept pushing everyone away but he was lonely, so the least I could do was to be there and stay there. Or help him find someone else. All that’s changed in him… it was all him. People don’t change that much if they aren’t willing to, but he actively and consciously worked on himself to become a better person. Don’t take that credit away from him and give it to me,” she replied. 

Dick huffed with a smile on his face. Marinette certainly was good for Damian. That boy better not fuck it up. 

As Damian won and Jason lay on the ground, defeated, Marinette jumped up and cheered before she ran to Damian and tackled him on the ground with a hug. Dick smiled and walked to his family, congratulating both of his brothers. He was glad she was in their lives, in Damian’s life, because she had so much love to give, and while she was not good at taking, Damian was determined to make sure she couldn’t go without receiving a lot in return. 

Because after all, she loved him with her everything, and he too loved her everything.

**_“you do that yourself…”_ **

Changing oneself was more difficult than Damian wanted to admit. Everything had always been so easy to him (or at least it had been far less difficult than this was), so much had just been handed to him. 

But this?

Yeah, no. He hated it and he didn’t want to do it. It was annoying, he didn’t want to change, and all of this was so horrible. 

The thing was, it didn’t matter that he didn’t want it — for himself, at least. The reason as to why he needed to do it was because there was someone he couldn’t keep treating like he did now. That also meant having to change. He wanted to change for her, he wanted to be able to give her what she deserved — and she deserved so much good. Damian couldn’t let himself keep being like he was now.

Marinette loved and loved and loved, and she kept coming back to him no matter how he was like to her. She didn’t give up. That said, whenever he went too far, she didn’t hesitate to call him out, sometimes even in front of other people, even if she did it politely and didn’t try to insult or offend him in any way — no, she went out of her way to try and avoid it, because, to quote her, “no one, even you, should be treated like that, because everyone deserves being shown respect.” 

Well, he was fairly sure she always mumbled something about a Lila not deserving respect, but he decided to ignore it…  _ for now. _

And so, he looked up what he could do to change and started doing those things actively. Or trying to do so, anyway. 

He found himself biting his tongue more often than he ever had just to keep himself from saying something that Marinette deemed offensive or insulting to other people. He started reading people to find what were their weak points, not because he wanted to hurt them, but because he wanted to avoid doing so. And maybe it was a bit because if they dared to hurt his friends, he would know perfectly how and  _ where _ to strike them.

Then, once he knew how to do that and didn’t need to pay as much attention to it as he had at the beginning, he started trying to do one kind thing to people every day — and someone other than Marinette, Jon or Colin. To them he managed to be an alright person more often than any other people. Sometimes it was helping them with their schoolwork, sometimes it was defending someone from harassment or bullying, sometimes it was as simple as being polite and thanking them. Like Marinette told him, he didn’t need to conquer the world for anyone — on the days he was too tired to do much, the simple “thank you” or holding a door open for  _ someone _ was more than enough.

And slowly but surely, he started finding himself feeling better. It was easier to let go of anger, his relationships with other people improved, he didn’t snap at people all so easily. It was rather refreshing to, for once, hear other people say something positive about him instead of complaining about his actions.

All because he had once decided Marinette deserved better than him, but he still wanted to be the one beside her. That had meant working on himself to become the person he thought she deserved, a person worthy of her.

After all, she deserved everything.

**_“...because they inspire you.”_ **

“Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Malaki? What is it you’re thinking about?”

Marinette massaged Damian’s hand with her thumb, trying to decide how she wanted to voice her thoughts. 

“I— I’m proud of you,” she finally decided. Marinette smiled at her boyfriend, happy she was able to spend time with him. “You’ve grown so much in the past few years and even months I’ve known you. I’m not sure what is the main reason for that, but that doesn’t matter, I’m just happy you seem to be doing better nowadays. Are you?”

Damian huffed and squeezed her hand. “Yes, I am. And you, sadiqti alhabiba  _ (my beloved girlfriend) _ , you were what drove me to change. You deserve so much and I wanted to be worthy of you and worthy of your love,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. “And I thank you for that.”

Chuckling, Marinette leant against him and closed her eyes, knowing that she was safe as long as he was with her. She didn’t need to be on her guard all the time. 

“You’re a fool.”

“A fool? Perhaps, but then I am a fool in love with the angel who decided I was worth fighting for.”

After all, she thought he was worth her time.

**_“A soulmate is someone who you can carry with you forever.”_ **

His breathing got significantly faster as he frantically tried to look for his beloved, and once his eyes landed on her body some metres away, they widened in horror. He could only barely see her from the smoke that obscured his vision, but the blood staining the ground and her petite body was more than easy to spot. 

He kicked the man in front of him away, with much more force than he knew was necessary, but it didn’t matter to him — he just needed to get to her.  _ Nothing else mattered right at that moment. _

Damian ran towards his beloved, coughing the smoke out of his lungs. He covered his mouth and nose to keep himself from breathing all of it, but his hand fell when he finally saw Marinette in front of him. 

Dead. 

Her eyes were wide open, red from all the impurities in the air, and the streams of her tears were still visible on her face as ash and dust had dyed them dark. Her mouth was still open in a silent scream that never got out of her lungs, because there was a clear bullet shot gone through the left side of her chest and a blade had impaled her throat. 

Why, oh why hadn’t she worn her miraculous suit that day? 

_ Why had he let her go out without it? _

_ And why had he let her come with him — he knew they were up against the League of Assassins. _

Damian gathered her small body in his arms, bringing her close to his chest and holding her tight. He’d be damned if he let anything worse happen to her, _ he’d be damned if he let her body be taken away from her _ . 

“You—” Damian choked out the word and tried to keep his tears at bay, batting them away from his eyes. “You made me love you— you made me let you in and you—” He breathed in sharply and tried to regain his composure, but it was nearly impossible. He clutched her tighter in his arms as though she was just injured and he needed to get her away from there… 

But he knew that wasn’t possible. “And then you died in my arms.” The last words were barely breathed out because he couldn’t— he wasn’t able to get his voice out. It was stuck in his throat along with the lump that made it so hard to breathe, so hard to stay up and standing when he would have rather crumbled then and there.

“You’re on your own!” he yelled to his comms, knowing he didn’t need to but he couldn’t help it right then and there. He could only hope Red Robin and Red Hood were alright with it, that they would survive without him and Marinette, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight longer than this without needing to kill the ones that were the reason his beloved was dead. 

There was no doubt about it. If he stayed, he  _ would _ kill the ones that were the reason they were even fighting to make them pay. 

... _ And she would not be happy about it _ . 

As it turned out, they won. Both his mother and grandfather were dead, the League was gone from the face of the earth (they would create it again one day, but they were gone for now and that was better than it had been for the longest time now. His beloved’s death wasn’t in vain.

Her funeral was a quiet affair. 

It wouldn’t have even been necessary as she had wanted to be cremated, but he had insisted on it. Damian wouldn’t have wanted her to be cremated, but he knew it had been her request so he never attempted to not let it happen. That’s why the least he could do was to make sure there was at least a funeral for her. He dressed up in white and black for the funeral, which was the reason he stood out in the crowd, but he couldn't care less. 

He was allowed to keep his wife’s ashes in their home, though he did spread some of them around the Wayne family’s lands since she had enjoyed spending time there a lot. Damian needed to make sure that her last place (or places, he supposed) of rest would be one she loved— no,  _ had _ loved, because she was  _ dead  _ now — when she was still there in the world with him. She had been too young to die. They had barely graduated from university a few years earlier.  _ She didn’t deserve it.  _

His brothers tried to console her. They really did. Cain tried her best as well, just staying there with him in silence while each of them did their own thing, letting the other one grieve. It was nice. If there was anything good about Marinette’s death, it was that he ended up getting closer with his family. 

Not that he preferred having better relationships with them — he would have chosen his beloved over them any day. 

On the first anniversary of her death he crumbled against their dinner table and tried to hold onto the table as he fell on his knees under the weight of his suppressed grief and agony. Damian could feel tears running down his face until he knew all he could do was to let it be, and so he sobbed. 

“Oh god, why can’t you be here? I should have been the first of us to die, not— not  _ you _ .” 

He had trouble breathing and he could only take short, sharp breaths. All he needed was to be able to hold his wife, his beloved, but that was the only thing he would never be able to do anymore. 

Later that night Drake — no, Timothy, because maybe he deserved that much for dealing with him that night without making fun of him even once — came over and just forced Damian to the sofa and gave him food he had bought before that. After that, he used Alfred’s recipe for an Irish coffee to calm him down a little. 

Timothy let him set the pace — if Damian wanted to talk, he was allowed to and Timothy would sit there in silence, listening to him, unless it was clear he wanted Timothy’s thoughts on the matter, or they would both be quiet, and at some point Damian was rather sure they had watched a few movies without really sleeping. Eventually, the coffee had him rather tired and he fell asleep, leaning against Timothy’s shoulder. 

Come the morning, and Timothy was still there. He even offered Damian rather sound advice, once he’d thought it over and realised Timothy was, in fact, right and didn’t deserve the blowing up he’d received from Damian. 

“With the death of a loved one, you’ve got to let yourself grieve. Otherwise, you will not be able to get better. It’s just a sign there’s excess love inside you that you can’t give anyone because that bit of love was reserved for someone special. It’s… Well, it’s something you need to let yourself feel because otherwise it will make you come crashing down and you don’t want to collapse,” he told Damian after making him sit down and drink some water. It looked like Timothy hadn’t slept at all. 

And he looked even worse than he usually did — he looked worse than Damian knew he himself had looked when Timothy had found him the day before. 

“It’s unlikely you’ll ever be able to  _ stop _ grieving, but… It will get better. One day. Slowly. And then sometimes it will hit you all over again, but on those days — well, every day, but especially on those days — I’m here. All of us, all of your family is. We won’t let you go through this alone. She was dear to us all, too.”

Later on (it must have taken some weeks, because by the time he heard it, Timothy had gone missing again) he heard from the rest of his family that it was amazing Timothy had come to him then. They still hadn’t gotten along well at that time (they’d gotten along on any level before his beloved’s death only for her sake as she’d expressed her utter sadness whenever they fought too much), but he’d come to help Damian specifically anyway. Because he cared. 

And it turned out he’d been as much of a mess as Damian had, but he'd forced himself to get up and deal with Damian too. It had taken him a while to understand how Timothy could have been as bad as he had, but then it hit him — he and Marinette had been best friends, and losing her had been just as much of a tragedy to him as it had been to Damian. 

That was something. 

And it was certainly an act to be respected. 

Fortunately, they found him within the next few months,  _ alive _ , because even Damian had admitted he missed Timothy and he wouldn’t be able to take it if more of his family died. Losing Marinette had been enough. 

On the fifth anniversary of her death, the entire family got together to remember her. Damian had baked her favourite pastries, fraisiers, for everyone. He had needed to do it — after all, it was her who taught him to bake them. 

Every one of them loved them. The children — Dick’s, Jason’s and Duke’s, though no one really knew where Duke had gotten his (none of them questioned it because they were too used to Father’s antics, at least he wasn’t training them to be vigilantes) — were just happy they got to eat sweets, though the older ones did notice the sad presence in all of them. That, and there was no way they didn’t know they gathered together to keep the memory of Damian’s late wife alive. It was certain that Jason’s children all knew a lot about the happened and knew that Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne had been close with all of them, but Damian wasn’t sure if they  _ understood _ why everyone was like that.

He could only barely see it from the blurriness in his own vision, but there were tears in Richard’s eyes that he refused to shed. Tim just smiled that sad smile of his at the dessert and looked like he was talking to himself, but there wasn’t even a trace of tears in his expression. He was doing better.

_ “It will get better,” he had told Damian years ago. “Not now, and the developement is going to be slow, but it will.” _

Maybe that was what had Tim smile. 

Damian didn’t know whether he should be happy for him or bitter. 

He decided to be happy for him, because that was what he knew his beloved would have wanted. 

Years went by and yet Damian never forgot about her. He knew he could never. He was finally getting better, he could go about his everyday life easily, though sometimes he needed to take a day off when the grief surfaced and he couldn't handle it anymore.

Somehow, Tim seemed to always know when those days hit (Damian wouldn’t put it past him to have all their siblings and even Father looking after him and reporting his moods to Tim), and every single time he was there at some point, either offering a listening ear or something to watch or food or just his presence, even if both of them worked on their own projects in silence. 

But he got better, and the pain and grief born from losing her loosened their grip on him. 

Through all the years, Damian carried a picture of Marinette along with him. He made sure her legacy would stay alive in some way, and ended up founding the Marinette Foundation that technically offered help for young artists and those bullied in school. In reality, they helped anyone they could, because that was what Marinette would’ve done.

Jon and Colin told him he was nothing like the boy they knew at some point, that he had changed, and they were proud of him. They said Marinette would be proud of him too. Damian, in turn, told them that they could thank Marinette when they met her in the life after this one and themselves for showing him the way (and Marinette for getting tired of his antics and shoving him down and onto said way because he refused to step onto it himself.)

Even on his deathbed decades later, he held a picture of Marinette in his hands, refusing to forget her no matter what.

Because after all, she was the reason he was still there.

**_“It's the one person who knew you and accepted you…”_ **

Damian swallowed — damnit, an al Ghul did not swallow when nervous or anxious, that was a sign of weakness and he  _ wasn’t weak  _ — as Marinette stared him down. He had to consciously keep himself from shifting in place where he was sitting on his bed. Marinette was on the other side of the room, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. 

The lights in the room were rather dim, the brightest light source being the daylight that made its way into the room through the windows Alfred had had them clean a few days earlier. Something about them needing to know how to do it and being able to be outside the window relatively safely compared to Alfred himself. 

He didn’t dare to say a word after his confession, simply waiting for Marinette to speak up. For her to say something,  _ anything _ . He’d told her  _ everything _ he could remember, even things he had never told anyone else, and her opinion on it mattered so much, regardless of what he wanted to convince himself of. Her opinion always weighed more than others’ at this point. 

Eventually, she opened her mouth. “Alright, so tell me if I got it right. You were born to the daughter of the leader of the league of  _ Assassins _ , you were raised to become one, you actually killed tens and tens of people, then you were taken to your father at the age of ten to distract him from his work as Batman, tried to kill Tim — my best friend — multiple times, and you never told me until now? After we’ve known each other for seven years and having dated for four of them?”

Usually, Damian could read Marinette easily, but now her face was blank, and the only thing he could hear in her voice was a hint of exasperation and anger. A  _ hint _ . That meant she was hiding something huge, because his beloved was  _ never _ this emotionless unless she was actively hiding something from him. 

And that was something that had him swallow his pride and admit to himself that he was frightened about what that meant for him, for her, for  _ them _ and their relationship. He had no idea. 

He nodded, drawing out a slow “yes, that’s pretty much it summarised.”

Marinette sighed and ran a hand down his face. For a second, there was a flash of absolute fury and sorrow visible on her face, but then it was already gone. Damian wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he was rather sure that this meant the end of their relationship.

“I am so furious right now.”

“I understand that you’re furious with me. I did hide it from you for a long time. I just thought you deserved to know, even if it came later rather than sooner. Better late than never, isn’t it?”

Yet another sigh. “Damian, love, mon cœur, I am not furious at you. I am furious at your mother and I am furious at your grandfather and so many others, but not you. And yes, I deserved to know that my boyfriend has killed people,  _ multiple of them _ at that, but I can see why you hid it from me for so long. When was the last time you killed anyone?”

“A bit after I became Robin.”

“Well then, it’s long since that happened. I can’t promise I won’t be a little uncomfortable around you for a while, but I’ll work on it. Your mother and grandfather took your childhood away and it isn’t your fault you became an assassin — you didn’t know any better. You were a  _ child _ . You aren’t supposed to have to know how to be at that age, especially if you’ve only ever seen one way of living, if you’ve only ever been told that way of living is the correct one. Instead, I’m ready to break this family’s “No kill” rule and go do that to your mother and grandfather. You didn’t deserve all of that. No child does.”

There were tears in his eyes that were threatening to spill, and Damian needed to think about breathing in order to be able to do so. 

“I— What is wrong with you? Why do you care so much about me?!” he began with a broken voice, his tone borderline hysterical, but Marinette interrupted him by putting a finger on his lips. She’d crossed the room fast. 

“Because you’re my friend above all else. You’re the one I love, and there’s nothing that can change that.”

Damian’s breath came to a halt. Tears burned in his eyes and suddenly he felt like a scared child, clinging onto anything that could save him. Marinette smiled at him so gently, so reassuringly as she reached out to him. She was truly an angel bringing light to his life,  _ being  _ the light in the darkness that was his life. “But I— I killed—”

“Oh love, I don’t blame you, so please, don’t do that either. Children cannot be blamed for the actions of their parents, and they can’t be held responsible for something they did because their mother and grandfather told them to do so. It took, what, ten years before you were even told you were allowed to  _ not _ kill people. There’s no way I could ever blame you.” Marinette pulled rather limp Damian into her arms and squeezed him, and both of them tried to ignore the tears that were now flowing down from their eyes. Mari hid her face in Damian’s hair, keeping Damian within her embrace in the way he’d once (surprisingly) admitted felt safe to him, his face buried in her shirt. Mari said nothing about the tears staining the piece of clothing. 

She never would, not with her dearest. Especially not when he was like this.

Marinette wasn’t surprised in the least that Damian had come crashing down like this. Keeping something a secret from your loved ones was tiring. The bigger the secret and the longer you kept it, the bigger the consequences would be once you let go of it. 

All she could do now was to be there for him and prove that she wasn’t going to leave, even if it took her a long time. He deserved that much. 

Because after all,  _ he  _ deserved the world. 

**_“Believed in you before anyone else did…”_ **

Marinette bend over and put her face in her arms and knees, sitting on her bed. Her sketchbook lied on the other side of the room, some of its pages crumbled next to it. She had no idea what to do. The only thing that could be heard in the room were her heavy breathing and sobs, at least until someone was at the door.

That someone knocked on the door three times, each knock the slightest bit different. She didn’t want to see anyone right now, but the knocks already told him it was either Damian or Tim on the other side of the door. They were the only two she’d told about how to knock on her door to make sure she knows it’s one of them if they needed to talk to her and she reacted to no other means of contact. 

So, reluctantly, she stood up and walked to the door, opening it to reveal Damian standing there, wearing a worried expression on his face. Marinette stepped aside and motioned for him to come in before closing the door behind the two of them. 

“What is—” she began but was interrupted before she got any further. 

“What happened, habibti?”

Marinette snapped her mouth shut. This was  _ not _ what she was expecting. Damian sounded  _ worried _ . 

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You don’t throw your sketchbook across the room and look like you’re about to cry when you are alright.”

That was enough to make her stop with the excuses. Damian had her figured out.  _ She should have guessed _ . She swallowed, visibly deflated and dropped on the ground, hugging her knees. Damian was at her side within seconds. 

“I just—” It was hard to talk about it and they fell into silence again. Damian put his hand on her shoulder hesitantly, as though he wasn’t sure if it was okay. As she didn’t move away or flinch at the touch, he just let it rest there. Marinette guessed he was trying his best at showing he was there by doing what he’d seen Tim and Dick do before. 

“You can take your time, I am in no hurry,” he said, drawing a teary laugh out of her. 

“Thanks, Dames.” 

Marinette stared at the ground as she started speaking. “I— It’s just that I realised, I remembered that I didn’t want to be a designer, not to begin with. I do enjoy designing, it isn’t that, but… It’s kind of like video games. It was meant to be a hobby.”

“Why did you change your mind, then?”

“I think… I think it’s because of Mlle Bustier. She saw me designing clothes one day and she kept insisting I was good at it and telling me I should become a designer. I did tell her I didn’t want to, but she insisted I should become one for weeks, months,  _ years _ . Eventually I— eventually I just thought that was what I wanted and should do, I guess.”

Damian growled, like, honest to god  _ growled _ . “I am going to sue that disgusting, sorry excuse of a teacher,” he all but snarled, but didn’t go anywhere from where he was kneeling next to her. 

“Please don’t. You don’t have any proof.”

“Tt. As you wish. At least she cannot do anything to you anymore as you’re now here. Then, what was it you wanted to do? Before that loathsome woman interfered, that is.”

Marinette smiled at him with teary eyes. “I wanted to be a baker, just like my parents. They loved their job and baking was so much fun. I loved trying new things and I always imagined how it would be to either take over our family bakery or start my own,” she said, chuckling. Then her smile disappeared from her face and she frowned a little. “But every time I mention this to someone now, they’re saying I shouldn’t abandon my “dream” of becoming a designer, that I don’t need to worry about whether I can make it. They think I’m just scared of whether my designs are good enough — I know they are — and I do want to do it as a side thing, but I… it’s not what I want from life. I want to be able to bake and make these amazing, wonderful creations and make people smile when they eat them!”

Damian reached his hands out to cup her face but hesitation made him jerk away. Why was he hesitating now? That was not something he usually did. But, when he watched her expressions carefully, the slightest bit of disappointment he could see on Marinette’s face had him reach out again and cup her face. 

“Whatever it is you want to do, I support you, and I’m sure you’ll do great. If you want to be a baker and create a bakery, I say go for it. If it makes you happy, I want you to do it, and I’ll be there supporting you through every step of the way, if that pleases you.”

“Yes, it would. Thank you, Damian,” she said, and finally a smile graced her lips again. It was like it lit up the entire room, but Damian didn’t have long to think about it before Marinette had surged forwards and her lips were on his. 

Just as soon as the kiss had started, it also ended. Marinette looked embarrassed and ashamed, letting her gaze fall to the side, averting Damian’s eyes. Her sudden movements had Damian lose his grasp on her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I simply—”

And then she was interrupted by Damian cupping her face once more, pulling her forwards and claiming her lips in turn. Marinette melted into it and traced her hands along his body up until they found their place on his shoulders and behind his neck. When they broke the kiss off, Marinette simply let herself go limp against Damian who held her like she was the most precious thing in the world. 

Perhaps she was.

“I meant that. I will always be here for you because I love you,” he whispered into her hair. 

After all, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t fight the entire world for her. 

**_“...or when no one else would.”_ **

“Have I ever told you how I met one of my best friends, Damian Wayne?” Lila asked one day after school when they were all waiting for their lifts or friends on the school grounds. Alya immediately perked up and looked at her friend curiously. She already seemed ready to take out her phone and record Lila talking about it, but Lila simply laughed sweetly and told her that she needed to protect Damian’s privacy from the media. Alya understood and put her phone away.

Marinette mostly ignored it, still waiting for her lift — she didn’t like it when Lila lied about her friends, but as long as she wasn’t slandering their name, she had decided not to intervene because one, it’s not like her classmates would care, and two, why should she care about her ex-friends being lied to if they didn’t believe her when she said so? As long as Lila didn’t bully her or her ex-friends didn’t do it, she couldn’t care less. 

“Alright, so it went like this. A few years ago, I was at the Wayne gala with my mother, when this woman spilled her drink on my dress. It was so unfortunate, I had gotten the dress from Prince Ali the last time I’d met him, and it was my favourite one,” Lila explained, making an effort to put shock and sadness in her voice, her expressions no doubt matching the story perfectly. Rose gasped in horror. Marinette was half-listening to the story, ready to start recording in case there was going to be any slander against any of her friends. After all, she would need proof if they wanted to take it to court. 

“Oh girl, what happened then? Did she at least apologise and offer to get it cleaned up for you?” Alya asked, grabbing Lila by the shoulders. Marinette could almost imagine her concerned, angry face in her mind. 

Marinette could find a slightly bitter taste in her mouth at the nickname but ignored it. 

Lila tilted her head and furrowed her brows, looking away for a second as though she were sad. “No,” she sighed. “She was jealous about me and the beautiful dress I had. Then she smirked at me and tripped, ripping my dress. It couldn’t be repaired afterwards. The biggest problem was, when she— when she ripped my dress—” 

Lila swallowed and stopped speaking and wiped a tear away from her eye before continuing. “When she ripped my dress, it revealed my undergarments, right there, in the middle of the gala,” she whispered. Marinette would be amazed at her acting skills because she sounded just like she were embarrassed for a second there if it wasn’t for the fact she didn’t like it when people lied.

“What happened then?” Mylène asked, holding her breath.

“Then Damian swooped in and shed his jacket quickly, giving it to me to be able to cover myself. Then he took me away from the ball and got me one of his sister’s dresses. He apologised that it wasn’t the same thing, but told me it was too unfortunate the woman had been like that. He then reassured me that his family would take her away so I could enjoy the rest of the gala. He still let me keep the jacket because I was cold.”

The girls around her cooed. 

“Tell us more!”

“Well, alright,” Lila complied, looking like she  _ didn’t  _ want them asking more. Like hell she didn’t, she  _ reveled _ in their attention. Lila Rossi  _ loved _ the sound of her own voice more than she loved breathing. “So, a few days after that — as I hadn’t been able to find him at the end of the gala to be able to give his jacket back to him — I was walking outside using his jacket because it was so warm and that way I could return it to him or one of his family members should I see them there. The a dog ran past me without his owner. He clearly belonged to someone because he had a collar and he was groomed, but I couldn’t even see anyone running after him. So, obviously, I ran after the dog to catch him, hoping he had a name tag and the owner’s information so I could return him. It took me a while and my feet were so tired, but eventually I succeeded. That was about when I saw a young man running towards me. The dog visibly brightened and started wagging his tail just as when I was trying to check the nametag, so I guessed it was the owner.”

“Who was it, then?”

“Ooh, was it Damian?”

“Yes! It was indeed Damian! His dog had run away! He was so kind to me because I found his dog and thanked me so many times for it. He asked me if I wanted to come for a walk with him and his dog who was so sweet the entire time. It was so wonderful talking with him — he’s a great conversationalist!” Marinette did agree with her there. “Then I gave him his jacket back and he gave me his number so we could keep in contact. We kept talking even after I returned to Italy and he’s one of my dearest friends!”

Well, Lila had said nothing problematic about Damian or any of the other Wayne family members, so Marinette decided she couldn’t bother to get involved in it. At least she’d done her research for  _ once _ , because while there were things you could check on the internet, it would be much harder unless you knew exactly where to look and who to ask. 

Marinette pulled out her phone to call Tim as he was supposed to fetch her from school with Alfred. Tim was her best friend and they were going to take her to the States for the next few weeks so she could get a break from school and all the stress surrounding it. Well. She was going to go to school with Damian in Gotham to make sure she didn’t fall behind, but it wasn’t like it was the  _ schoolwork _ stressing her out. It was Lila and all her lies and the lack of anyone she could talk to or rely on. In Gotham, none of those things would be a problem.

But, instead of Tim walking up to her, she got Tim _and_ _Damian_ , both heading straight her way. Once she got over her surprise, she smiled brightly and waved at them before running towards Tim and hugging him. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tightly. 

“I’m so glad that you’re coming over for the next few weeks, Cupcake! There’s so much I want to show you. Did I already mention that Lucius and Tam are both looking forward to seeing you at the office during your stay? Because they totally are. They want to show you around the company. You can’t let them down. Bart and Kon mentioned wanting to see you at some point during the week too.”

Marinette laughed and wriggled out of Tim’s grasp. “I’ll make sure I’ll have time for all of them. I do need to set time aside for you especially, but I’m reserving Dames for myself for at least a few days,” she told the two boys and smiled at Damian. She still wasn’t too close with him so she tried to keep away from hugging him or tried to keep the touch contact at minimum because he always seemed so uncomfortable with the rest of the family showing their affection by hugs or ruffling his hair and so on. She didn’t want to do it to him. 

(So what if a bit of it was because she had the tiniest crush on him and didn’t want to ruin her relationship with him before she even had any kind of a chance.)

“Oh, Marinette, who’s your friend? Your boyfriend? Or  _ boyfriends _ ?” Lila asked with the slightest smirk hidden behind her smile, the tone of her voice sounding the slightest bit scandalised at the idea of multiple boyfriends. It seemed everyone else caught it too and with wide eyes, stared at Marinette. Marinette scowled, hoping Tim and Damian didn’t catch the mood change in the air. 

A pointless wish because both were children of Bruce Wayne and raised by the greatest detective in the world, but a wish nonetheless. 

“This is my best friend, Tim, and this is his little brother and also my dear friend, Dames,” she replied, gritting her teeth a little. 

“Oh no, your  _ best friend _ ? Isn’t  _ Alya  _ your best friend?”

That drew the attention of the entire class still present to them. They smelled drama and they wanted to see it. 

“No,” Marinette said coolly, pressing her nails into the skin of her palm to keep herself calm and grounded. Tim seemed to notice it and put a hand on her arm, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. “Alya  _ was  _ my best friend until she decided to believe you over me. We grew apart.”

“God, Marinette, this ploy of yours isn’t going to work. You’re still my friend, but I’m also friends with Lila! I don’t get where this jealousy and need to have people for yourself is coming from! Are you still mad that Adrien doesn’t like you as much as he likes Lila?”

Marinette inhaled deep. “I don’t even like Adrien anymore. I haven’t liked him in  _ months _ ! I’m not jealous, it’s that you all keep believing and choosing Lila — a girl you’ve known for a year or so — over me, someone some of you have known since we were in diapers! Have I ever lied to any of you? Proved you couldn’t trust me? Anything that could justify any of this?” 

She was so irritated and  _ done  _ with them. They weren’t bullying her, but honestly, she would have preferred it over them saying they were still friends before doing a complete 180° and deciding to choose Lila over her  _ every. Single. Time. _ Not  _ once _ had they chosen her over Lila since she came into the picture permanently. 

“Like hell you don’t like Adrien. You just told me over the phone you do!”

“Alya, we haven’t spoken over the phone in ages.”

That stopped Alya. She swallowed, pulled out her phone and frantically looked through it before paling. 

“Well?” Marinette inquired. She knew perfectly well it had been a long time since because both of them were just “so busy” all the time. 

“It’s— it’s been half a year since…” Alya choked out. Marinette settled for an expression and an arch of a brow that told her  _ I told you so. _

“Well then, that’s settled. Can we go now? I’d like to see the rest of the family as soon as possible,” Marinette said, already turning on her heel when Lila decided she needed to have the last word in. At least she had the good idea of speaking in French because every time Marinette spoke to the two boys, it was in English. Obviously, both of them knew at least some French as she used it around the Manor and they sometimes replied to her, but still. It wasn’t like Lila knew.

“Where are you even going? It’s the middle of the school year. There can’t be any good reason as to why you’re leaving now. It’s not like you’re good enough to just not be here.” 

“I am leaving because of stress, not that it actually was any of your concern, and my schoolwork is doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“I haven’t even seen you study, you’re quiet in class — in fact, it seems like all you do is draw while you should focus on what Mlle Bustier is teaching us.”

Marinette sighed. She didn’t want to have to deal with this. 

The others in class spoke up too, all of them spouting out similar “facts” that actually weren’t true. Marinette could feel tears burning in her eyes and the choking feeling in her throat was just  _ too present _ , but she couldn’t do anything about it. Tim looked ready to go full Red Robin on them, but just before he opened his mouth, Damian was already in front of them and at it. Tim returned to Marinette’s side, rubbing comforting circles on her shoulders and arms, wiping her tears away.

“I’m not certain if any of you imbeciles have ears. She told you, her schoolwork is excellent. I have seen her grades, Father has seen her grades, her parents have seen her grades, Drake has seen them, and all of us have decided that it is of no problem for her to come with us. And if any of you were the friends you say you are, then you would not question this and be happy for her and trust she knows what she is doing. If none of you are able to do that simple thing, then I deem all of you unworthy of her,” he said,  _ in perfect French _ , his tone of voice clearly telling them all his word was  _ final _ . Some of the students paled and backed off when they caught it and understood there was no way for them out of this.

It seemed Lila didn’t. 

“Who are you supposed to be? I’ll have you know, I’m the daughter of an ambassador, you can’t speak to me like that.”

“Oh, so  _ you _ are the liar Malaki has mentioned every now and then.”

“Are you calling me a  _ liar _ ?”

“Well, to say what Jason would love to if he were here,  _ I ain’t calling you a truther _ ,” Tim chimed in, a smile on his face, though none of the others could see it as he was still focused on making sure Marinette was okay. Marinette’s snort mixed with her choked sob as she held onto Tim, watching the exchange take place in front of them.

Marinette could have cried out of joy. Her friends — these friends — were actually there for her and didn’t let her deal with all of it alone. And Damian, well. He believed in her. He didn’t doubt her words for a second about a liar and then the moment he met Lila, he stood with Marinette and didn’t let Lila’s sweet, sugary, false words change his mind. 

It mattered more to her than she knew how to explain.

The glare he had on his face, directed at Lila and the rest of them, was definitely the perfect blend of Damian al Ghul Wayne and Robin. It was something all the Bats learnt from Bruce and Batman, but Damian had perfected it and turned it into something of his own. Marinette was glad she was never on the receiving end of it. The faintest ghost of a smile crept on her lips as she watched everything unravel in front of her very eyes.

“Wait. Aren’t you— Lila, do you not recognise him?” 

That was Alya.

“Why should I?”

Lila. 

“Because that right there is Damian Wayne and you were  _ just  _ telling us about how you met him.”

“According to the internet and my various sources, the two people with Marinette Dupain-Cheng are Damian Wayne and Timothy Drake-Wayne.”

Max and Markov. 

“I can’t believe this is how you fall, Rossi. You don’t recognise your so called best friend? You definitely dug yourself into a deep hole. It’s ridiculous, utterly  _ ridiculous _ .”

And Chloé. 

That was all the rest of them needed to pull out their phones and start looking up the rest of the things — thoroughly — that Lila had claimed to be true. It didn’t take too long before Markov and Max started listing off things Lila had lied about.

Damian smirked and turned away, clearly satisfied with how things turned out. He led Marinette to the car with Tim, and once they were inside and had said hi to Alfred and apologised for how long it took, he turned to Marinette and actually, genuinely  _ smiled  _ at her. 

“Remember, Malaki, you don’t need to do everything on your own. If anyone ever dares to disrespect you like that again or doesn’t believe you when you’re telling the truth, you can trust that I will be there if you need assistance. I will  _ always  _ be there when you need me. Asking for assistance isn’t a sign of weakness. Besides, isn’t that what Grayson always tries to remind us all of? That ‘asking for help and helping is what family does’, that ‘admitting to your flaws or not being able to do everything alone doesn’t mean a lack of strength’.” 

“I agree with him, for  _ once _ . We all care about you and you’re family. You could never be a bother. You can rely on us.”

Marinette wiped a tear out of her eye and smiled back. “You’re right. Thank you, Dami. For everything. You too, Timmers.” She grabbed the hands of both her friends and squeezed them, completely ignoring the warmth on her cheeks as Damian gave her a light squeeze back. 

She would be fine.

Because after all, he wasn’t about to leave her fending for herself.

**_“And no matter what happens...”_ **

“I’ll go with you.”

Marinette’s tone indicated her words were meant to be taken as final, but Damian wasn’t having it. He was not about to let his wife come with him to take down the League of Assassins for good because it wasn’t safe at all. That was the one fight where he wouldn’t be able to protect her because he’d be too caught up with fighting those who had gotten training nearly as good and tough as his. His beloved, as good as she was, was not comparable to the League because her training had been so different. His mother would be there, no doubt. Even if she liked Marinette, Mother was not above using her son’s wife against him if she thought it would work in her favour. 

“No. You aren’t coming. I don’t want you to die there.”

Marinette groaned and threw a pillow at him with way too much force. It didn’t hurt — it was a  _ pillow _ , after all—, but it did surprise him. 

“Damian, ma raison de vivre, I will come with you. There’s no way I’ll be able to go on if you’re gone, so I  _ will _ come and make sure you don’t die,” she snapped at him, scowling. It was a rare thing to see on her face. 

“You are the one who needs to live if it comes down to that. The world and the family needs you more than they need me, habibti. I—” He was interrupted before he got any further. 

“No! Don’t you  _ dare  _ start that! You are my —  _ ugh, what’s the English term… whatever, let’s go with French  _ — ma raison d’être and there’s no way I’m letting you die either! You aren’t disposable, you aren’t someone that I — or the family —  _ can  _ lose! I don’t care what it takes, and if I have to follow you from the shadows, hidden from you, to be able to come along, then that’s what I will do,” Marinette said, snarling. 

“But this is the League of  _ Assassins _ , they are there to kill. I might have to resort to that as well, if nothing else works. I will try not to for you, of course, but the chance still exists. They will definitely try to kill me, and if you’re there, you as well.”

“You know what, I’m coming and I’m telling the family of this as well. They won’t let you go alone either. None of us want you to die.” 

She had already pulled out her phone and dialed someone by the time Damian had noticed and tried to stop her. It was too late. 

“Fine,” he huffed and sat down at the table, watching as Marinette argued with someone on the phone until she finally put her phone away with a smug smile on her face. 

“Tim said he’s coming, I reminded Bruce that he wouldn’t want to lose yet another son — especially not for the second time, yes, I know you died like fifteen years ago — so he’s in as well, Dick was in before I even finished trying to convince him, and Jason is coming as well because he cares about you all and wants to be there to protect you even if he’s horrible at saying it out loud.”

“I know.”

“Cass, Steph, Duke and Babs are in as well. So, you know, the whole family is going to be there. I’m pretty sure Jon and Colin would want to help as well if I asked.”

Marinette walked around the table to him, and slid her arms around him. “Dames, whatever happens, I will be there by your side, just like you told you’d be by my side. It goes both ways, love.” She pressed a kiss to his hair and took his hands in her own. “We are going to be fine, I promise. After all, you’re my other half, you complete me, and that means we’re going to survive and get through this as well.”

The day to fight came, and all the kwamii were tired, so Marinette wore kevlar, just like the rest of them. She smiled at him, holding his hand and chuckled, saying they matched. Damian smiled back and tucked some loose strands behind her ear. Yeah, just like his beloved said, they were going to be alright. 

Because after all, they worked together better than any oiled machine. 

**_“You will always love them.”_ **

Those were the words he told her in front of both their families, their friends, but Damian couldn’t care less about them. All that mattered to him was that his angel was there, his angel had promised to give all of herself to him for the rest of their lives, until death do them part. In return, he gave her all that he was, all that he had, and he would never leave her side if it was up to him to decide.

He took her hands in his before bringing them up to kiss her fingers. Marinette laughed, the sound of it like music in his ears. It was the most beautiful sound in the world to him. The red of her dress was elegant and brought out her appearance’s best qualities, it made her eyes shine. The golden accents

When the “You may kiss the bride” came, he lifted her up by her waist, twirled them around and placed her back on the ground before he pressed a delicate kiss on her lips. It made her smile, and Damian was certain she could compete with the Sun itself for the place of the brightest and most beautiful thing in the world and win.

When they finally turned to face their closest people present, they were both smiling and happier than ever. Grayson cheered in the front row, Todd had a grin on his face, Father was smiling at them with such pride in his eyes, and Drake… Oh yeah, he was Marinette’s Man of Honor, so he wasn’t with the rest of the family — he had been standing at the side on Marinette’s side, with Steph, Kagami and Cass, who were her bridesmaids, and Luka, her bridesman, all standing behind him. Damian had given Colin and Jon the honour of being his Best Men (because he simply refused to choose only one of them.) Right now, Tim looked ready to run to Marinette and hug and congratulate her, but decided against it because he knew it was her and  _ Damian’s _ day, and the right to be there by her side at the ceremony was Damian’s.

(It was clear he was going to spend as much time as possible with her at the wedding reception, though. Damian had no problem with that — his wife should be able to be with her friends,  _ especially her best friend _ , as long as she didn’t forget him. He knew she wouldn’t. There was a reason she’d married  _ him _ .)

Marinette smiled at him and gave his cheek a quick peck as they intertwined their fingers and walked down the aisle. It was strange and oh so wonderful how this amazing young woman had decided she wanted to spend the rest of her life with  _ him _ , no matter what kind of a person he had been, no matter how many other suitable people that liked her were there, no matter how difficult life together would be because of how stubborn both of them were — she still had chosen him over everyone and everything else, and Damian would be damned if he didn’t treat her with all the respect she deserved and make her as happy as ever possible.

Because after all, if soulmates existed, she was definitely his. 

**_“Nothing can ever change that.”_ **

A woman perks up as she hears someone call her name, seeing the black hair and the tan skin of the one she’s always loved. The one she’s loved since the day she  _ saw _ him and until the day her heartbeats ceased and even beyond death. The one she had loved, the one she still loves, the one she will always love. He’s standing there, shocked, tears in his eyes, but there’s so much adoration and love in his eyes that she doesn't even know how to react. Then she rushes to her feet and runs to him, throwing herself at him because  _ it’s been too long since the day we lost each other _ . 

Her treasure got to live a life decades longer than her own, he got to grow old, but she can’t find it in herself to be bitter about it — he always deserved to live a long life, and besides, even though she would have tried to be happy for him if it had happened, he never fell in love again or remarried after she was taken away from him. He’d stayed hers and hers only until death, and now they’re back together, finally. Even if it took nearly seven entire decades of separation first.

Basking in the warmth of sunlight, the young woman with black hair leans against the young man just about her age, his hair just as black as hers. He wraps his arms around her shoulders tightly and presses her against his chest, more than grateful he can hold her again after being separated for so very long. She chuckles and tilts her head backwards so he can give her a kiss on her forehead more easily. 

The rest of the world no longer matters. It’s no longer “as though it doesn’t matter”, because now it is “it doesn’t matter”. They have both lived and they have both died, and now that they’re together again, they don’t need to care about the world. It isn’t like they can affect it anymore either. 

They intertwine their fingers, a gesture that brings both of them comfort, a gesture that has brought both of them comfort for decades now, and they watch the sun set down below in the world they can only see as outsiders anymore. Even so, the sunset paints the world in warm tones, and the peaceful tones of red, orange and yellow fill their vision. 

Their time is no longer limited, for they’ve found one another in the life beyond. They are together again, and that is all that matters to them. Their family is there as well, all of them are waiting to see them, and that’s why they don’t need to worry anymore. 

The young woman stands up and offers her hand to the man, and the man takes it, letting the woman pull him to his feet. She cups his face and pulls him down to a kiss, smiling into it as she murmurs her confessions of love to him in all the languages she knows and even the languages she doesn’t. In return, he tells her how she is all that he needs, how she changed his life, and how he will keep his promise of staying by her side until the end of time in all the languages that have ever existed and even the languages that don’t yet exist.

After all, to one another, the two of them were everything.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Because what’s a soulmate, if not the one person you love more than anything, the one person your life would crash without, the one person that gives you strength in the darkest of times even when they aren’t there, if not the one you choose to love until you run out of air to breathe and until your heart ceases to beat? _

_ What’s a soulmate, if not the one who will keep coming back to you over and over again, no matter what happens, until the end of time and will find you even beyond death? _

**Author's Note:**

> Did you find the only two connected scenes in this one because there's totally one scene that leads straight to another (and as the fic isn't in chronological order, the two scenes aren't either.)
> 
> If you guess what were my favourite scenes to write or tell me what were yours to read, I'll give you a cookie. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this! 
> 
> Do come scream at me on my [tumblr](https://ethelphantom.tumblr.com/) if you feel like it!


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